


The Church Closet

by dreadpiratewatson



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, John Loves Sherlock, John and Mary's Wedding, John is a Saint, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Mary Gets John And Sherlock Together, Mary Is A Nice Person, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Pining John, Pining Sherlock, Post-Season/Series 03 Fix-It, Requited Love, Same-Sex Marriage, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Feels, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Fluff, Sherlock Loves John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadpiratewatson/pseuds/dreadpiratewatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John let out a shaky breath. "But... It's not supposed to be like this." He rasped, his voice trembling. "It's my wedding day. It's our wedding day. I'm supposed to be happy and waiting for you to walk down the aisle, not sitting in a church closet having a sexuality crisis about my best man." <br/>~~~~<br/>On the most important day of John Watson's life, he's supposed to be happy, but instead, thoughts of Sherlock Holmes plague his mind, instead of his blushing bride. When Mary tries to help, confessions are made, the truth is shared... And there might still be a wedding after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Church Closet

John was running. He was running fast and he wasn't planning on stopping until he was somewhere he could hide. He needed to get out. It was too hot, the air was too heavy, everything felt wrong. He could hear Sherlock running after him, calling his name in a panic, but John wasn't stopping. He threw open the door of the back room and slammed it shut behind him, then stood with his back against the door. He felt his entire body weaken with relief at the realization that he was alone now, but he could bring himself to move.

"John?" Sherlock's near frantic call from the other side of the door came so suddenly, John nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the sharp rapping at the wood. "John, please, talk to me, what did I do?" The detective's voice was thick and raspy.

The doctor shook his head although he couldn't see. He didn't want to open the door. He knew it was cowardly, but he didn't want to see anyone right then. He wanted to hide. "Go away, Sherlock." He growled, though it came out weak. He tried to put in as much venom in it as possible, but nothing came from it.

He heardthe detective take a step back, but he seemed reluctant to move any further away. "John." He said again, quieter, this time, but there was no mistaking the hurt and the confusion that weaved its' way through the deep baritone.

"Sherlock, for fuck's sake, go away." John hissed.

There was a soft, unintelligible voice that the doctor recognized as Janine's, and then he heard Sherlock pull away from the door, and the footsteps faded away, much to his own relief.

But, once he was alone, he suddenly felt the silence was too much. 

 _What the hell am I doing?_ He thought to himself as he sat down on the bench. Everything was a mess. _He_ was a mess. He didn't even know what started it. Sherlock had only asked him if he was alright.

It was his wedding day. Within two hours, he and his fiancée, Mary Morstan were going to be married. Everything had been planned by Mary and Sherlock, everything from the colors to the dress to the bloody floral arrangement, and it was all meant to be perfect. The sun was shining, it was cloudless, it was a stunning day in May, and everything was positively beautiful. Mary was beautiful. Well, he hadn't seen the dress yet, but Mary was always beautiful, and Sherlock had helped her pick it-God, _that_ was an interesting thought-so he knew it was just as gorgeous as she was. Sherlock looked fantastic, and honestly, so did he. Everything was perfect.

So why wasn't he _happy?_

When someone thinks about their wedding day, they're supposed to be happy.

Right?

But, no matter how much he thought about it, he could not bring himself to be happy about his own wedding day.

And John had no idea why.

The doctor held his head in his hands and tried his best not to hate himself. He was angry at himself. He shouldn't be reacting like this, it was his wedding day! He was supposed to be happy, maybe even crying out of pure joy that he was marrying such a beautiful, amazing woman, but instead, he was hiding from it all like a coward. Everything felt so wrong, like he shouldn't be there. Not just in the closet, at the chapel in general. He didn't feel right. Nothing felt right. Even the suit felt like it was constricting his chest so tightly that he could barely breathe.

There was a soft knock at the door that broke the jumbled thoughts. John's head snapped up, and he suddenly felt smaller than before. "Sherlock, I said go away." He urged, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"It's me, actually." Came Mary's soft voice from the other side of the wood. "May I come in?"

Her voice sent a chill down his spine, but he figured it was better her than anyone else. "Y-yeah, of course." He said quietly.

The door pushed open, and even in the dim light of the room, he could seen just how stunning she looked, and his breath caught in his throat. The lacy fabric flowed down to her feet in gorgeous white waves, her hair done up beautifully, her make up perfect... Mary Morstan, the future Mrs. Watson looked absolutely _beautiful._

But not even that gave John a rush.

Mary gave him one of her smiles that made his face turn red from embarrassment, and sat down beside him on the bench. "You know," She breathed. "Usually it's the bride who goes into hiding before the wedding." Her voice was light and joking, not at all what he expected.

John didn't know what to say to that. "How did you know I was in here?" He asked quietly, then mentally kicked himself at how scratchy his voice sounded.

"Sherlock told me where you were." Mary said. "He came in looking all panicked, and told me something was wrong with you." She paused and nodded her head toward the door. "He's still out there, he's sitting by the windows. He's worried."

John scoffed humorlessly. "That doesn't sound like Sherlock. He's not one to worry."

Mary gave him a look, similar to the one that Sherlock often gave the incompetent officers of Scotland Yard at crime scenes. "He is when it involves you."

He had no argument against that. Of course he knew Sherlock worried, after the Black Lotus, after the pool, occasionally on cases when John got hurt, the fall, when John ended up in the bonfire, he was a panicked mess... He knew that Sherlock worried. The detective was famous for pretending he didn't worry, but of course he did. He cared. John wondered if that was why he threw himself into wedding plans and made himself available constantly to help Mary. He cared about John, so he wanted Mary to like him, or he was trying to do what he thought would make John happy to make up for the two years he was gone. The latter was the more likely option. It always made him sad to think that Sherlock did all of this for him, just to make him happy, and he hated to admit that he _wasn't_ happy. Although he wasn't exactly sure what he was unhappy about. _No wonder he's worried._ The thoughts only brought guilt.

"So." Mary's voice was still abnormally quiet. "What's got you cooped up back here?"

John hesitated. "I... I'm actually wondering that myself. I was just talking to Sherlock, and then all of a sudden..." He waved his hand to gesture at the room around him, knowing he didn't need much more of an explanation than that. He made a decision to not mention to his future wife that this was actually caused by Sherlock asking him if he was alright. _That would probably not go over well._ The army doctor shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "I think I'm just nervous, that's all. I'm not sure exactly why, but like you said, it's usually the bride who goes into hiding. I think I'm just-"

"Having second thoughts?" She finished, gazing over at him with a sad, but strangely understanding look in her eyes.

John was appalled. "No!" He shot back, perhaps a bit too loudly as he grabbed her hand. "No, Mary, God no, I'm not... I love you, you know that."

Mary smiled at him and reached out to caress his arm. "Of course you do. I know you do." She didn't sound convinced. Instead, she sounded like she was trying to get him to admit to something, although he was quite unsure of what that was. "But..." Mary bit at her lip, squeezing at his hand. "Not as much as you love him." She finished softly, her voice trembling just a little.

His blood went cold. "No, no, Mary, that's not true, I-"

_"John."_

One word was all it took. With one word and one look, John Watson knew that he had lost control of the situation. Mary's face was hard, but not stern, her eyes were sad, but soft, there were tears behind the soft blue, but they weren't accusing or angry... Instead, they were kind. She wasn't trying to make him feel guilty, she was only trying to make him understand what he had been ignoring for the last five years.

He was in love with Sherlock Holmes.

And everyone knew it but him.

John locked eyes with the blonde bride beside him, and felt everything in his heart drop. He knew he couldn't argue, but he wanted to fight back. It was his wedding day, he was to be married in less than three hours, he couldn't think about this now! "Mary, I-"

"Shhh." She hushed him gently, taking his hands tighter in her own. "You don't have to explain it to me. I've always known, John. I knew from the moment he showed up in the restaurant that you and him were a team, and I was just the girlfriend. I know you didn't see it that way," She said, once she saw the look on his face. "I know that for a fact, but it was true. If he had come back sooner, we wouldn't be here. You just didn't leave because you loved me enough to stay, but it doesn't take a genius to see you're unhappy." Mary kept her voice level throughout her speech, but John could tell by her grip on his hands that it was difficult. However, she made no indication that she was planning to stop.

The doctor's mouth was dry. "But... I _am_ happy." He protested weakly.

Mary gave him a sympathetic smile. "When you're with him. When we're at Baker St., you're perfectly happy. But this," She lifted a small section of fabric from her wedding dress. "Is not making you happy. You just don't know how to say it."

"But... I still love you." He whispered brokenly.

"Of course you do, John, I know you do." She quickly replied, reaching up and stroking his cheek, although he was breathing too heavily for it to make any difference. "Just because you love him doesn't mean you don't love me. I know you love me, John, there's never been a question about it, but..." Mary's eyes began to tear up the more she spoke, making John's heart ache. "You're not mine, sweetheart. You never were."

John tried to think of something, _anything_ to say that would make it better, but he knew she was right. He had been dreading the wedding, because he knew it was just one step further away from Sherlock. He had promised Sherlock from the beginning that the wedding would change nothing between them, but he was more saying it to ease his own worry that nothing would change, rather than settle his best friend's nerves. John had always been in love with Sherlock, he just never said anything because he never wanted the detective to know. Sherlock was married to his work-or, that's what he told John on their first night working together-and that was enough for John to hide the feelings away. He never let them out when Sherlock was around, but occasionally, when he was alone, like after the fall, or those nights he and the detective were so plastered they couldn't stand up straight, he'd bring them out like photographs, and look at them, just admire them as he admired his detective. Then, before he looked too long, he'd tuck them away again, and get back to life the way he was living it. Why indulge in the painful idea of having someone when you knew that it was only an idea in the first place? He thought it was just a silly fantasy.

So, he decided to get married. He proposed to Mary Morstan, even though he knew it was only because Sherlock didn't love him anyway. He knew it was a pointless fight. He tucked away every feeling he ever had, he tucked them all deep away in a box and hid the key somewhere, but yet, on the most important day of his life, they were all coming out on the table for everyone to see, but only his bride could make him see them.

John let out a shaky breath. "But... It's not supposed to be like this." He rasped, his voice trembling. "It's my wedding day. It's _our_ wedding day. I'm supposed to be happy and waiting for you to walk down the aisle, not sitting in a church closet having a sexuality crisis about my best man." _Best friend._ He corrected in his own mind, although it only made it worse.

The corner of her mouth twitched up into a playful smirk. "Hence the closet."

The doctor snickered. "You're not helping." He told his bride, although the joke did make him feel a bit better.

Mary laughed. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. It was too easy. I just wanted to make you laugh."

There was a pause in conversation, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was like they were both trying to comfort each other without saying a word. "So... What happens now?" The doctor asked quietly, slightly afraid of the answer. "Now that this is all out, what do we do?"

Mary sighed, and went back to messing with her dress. "Well... Honestly, I think you should talk to Sherlock." She replied, sending a wave of nausea through John's stomach. The thought of coming clean to Sherlock was terrifying. Mary must have seen the look on his face, because she took his hand again, and squeezed in lightly. "I know you're scared, but this is for the best. You talk to him, and then we'll figure out what to do."

Of course he was scared. He was just about to confess his love for his best friend to the man himself, after years of telling everyone they weren't a couple, telling everyone he wasn't gay, and telling everyone that he wasn't in love with him in the first place. He was out of his mind with fear and guilt and he only wanted to disappear. It would be a hell of a lot less humiliating. _God, I'm a mess._ How would he even start this conversation? _I'm dumping my fiancée on our wedding day because I'm in love with you, even though you're not like that._ Because that would go over just _fabulously._ When in the face of love before, Sherlock ran away. Of course, he never actually came right out and said that he was in love with Irene Adler, but he was certainly intrigued. What if he ran? What if he decided he didn't want John around anymore? It was a possibility, he even shot down his painfully obvious flirting the first day they met. _Although he did say he was flattered..._ Maybe it still stood. They knew each other better now, much better, they were closer and happier, and hell, after the way John's stag night turned out, it was a wonder they hadn't said anything already. _I couldn't have been the only one who wanted it that night._

He sighed, running his fingers through his air. "Mary... I'm sorry." He said softly, locking eyes with the woman. "I know that doesn't make up for it, but... I'm so sorry this all came out. I'm sorry it came out now." He _was_ sorry. Mary Morstan had been nothing but kind and supportive to him throughout everything, and yet, here he was on their wedding day, ending their relationship just hours before the wedding.

But, Mary only smiled, although there was a certain sadness behind it. "I'm not sorry. I'm sad, yes, but... At the end of the day, it's better that it comes out now before you can't correct your mistake." She replied gently, leaving the goodbye as it was. She squeezed his hand again, and got to her feet, but not before pressing a kiss to her temple. "I'll go get Sherlock." Then, with a soft flow of her dress, and the gentle tap of the door closing behind her, she was gone.

There was an unnerving silence that followed Mary's departure from the tiny room, and most of it, John spent panicking. He was trying to pick out the words carefully, as he knew Sherlock wouldn't know what to say. _Unless he rejects you completely._

The door opened with a gentle push, and the tall, lithe form of the detective slid through the tiniest gap before closing it behind him. John stopped breathing for approximately eight seconds when Sherlock walked in, and it made it worse to see the fear and confusion in his eyes. _He still thinks he did something wrong._ John realized, which made his heart jump. The detective often looked like a sad puppy when he thought he'd done wrong. "John?" Sherlock uttered, his voice timid.

John gave him a smile, but he knew it looked pathetic. "Hi. You okay?"

"Hardly what I'm worried about right now." The detective replied, his voice mimicking his usual snap, but the way it shook contradicted it.

"Right." John said, rubbing the back of his neck apprehensively. "Um... I should... I should probably say this now. We aren't doing this anymore." _That sounds clear. Good one, Watson._ He thought sarcastically.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

The doctor sighed. It was like the entirety of the English language had left him completely, and he was completely lost. "I mean... This isn't happening anymore." He tried again, gesturing around the room, as if it made it better.

Sherlock took a moment, then, something seemed to click, and his eyes got wide before he looked down at his feet. "Oh. I see. I... I understand, I'll go then, it's-"

"Wait, go?" He interrupted, a bit anxiously.

The detective shifted his weight uncomfortably on the floorboards. "You said 'this', so I thought I'd just leave."

_Oh. He thinks you mean the two of you._

"No! Jesus, Sherlock, no, I don't mean you. You've done nothing wrong." He replied quickly. He watched Sherlock's shoulders fall and heard the soft sigh of relief escape from his lips. "I meant the wedding. The wedding is off. Mary and I aren't... We aren't getting married." He realized his voice seemed much too calm for the situation at hand, like he had practiced saying 'the wedding is off' for weeks.

Sherlock's eyes got wide once again, and he took a step back. "John..." He paused. "I'll go talk to Mary. Let me talk to her, I can fix it, John, I promise. I'll fix it."

"No!" John shouted just as he started to reach for the handle. The detective pulled away, but kept his back against the door, still obviously baffled by his friend's behavior. John couldn't help but think it was slightly adorable. He held out his hand for Sherlock to take, but realized it was probably not appropriate yet, so he waved him over instead. "Just... Come here a minute. Sit down."

He obeyed and took his place beside John on the bench, the very spot that Mary had occupied just a few minutes before. He was literally taking Mary's place. _Hopefully that's what's about to happen._

Noticing the silence, John felt it best to speak. "Sherlock... Mary didn't call it off. I did." He said slowly.

He felt Sherlock's body tense up. "Why?"

John sighed and passed a hand over his tired face. This was where it got tricky. _You have one shot here. Don't mess it up. Word it carefully._ If Sherlock didn't feel the same way, this whole thing would have been for nothing. _No, you still would have married someone you weren't in love with. Sherlock was good at deleting things, he could delete this is he wanted to, right?_

_Just tell him you idiot._

The army doctor gazed over at his best friend in the darkness of the room, and thought back to everything that lead them to this moment. He had been with Sherlock for five years, forgetting the two years that the detective was off dismantling Moriarty's network-which John had long forgiven him for-and every minute they were together, he remembered in that moment. On their first meeting, John had killed a man for threatening Sherlock's life, and that was after knowing him for less than twenty-four hours. They tore down a Chinese smuggling network. They ran from criminals, risked their lives every day, and after only a few months of knowing each other, they agreed to die together at the pool to save the lives of others. With one look, they agreed to die together. Then came The Woman and Baskerville, then Moriarty's returned, and not once did John give up on him. Even during those two years, he never once believed that Sherlock was a liar. He always knew the truth. He had fallen in love with Sherlock somewhere along the way of their insane adventures, and now he just had to find a way to say it.

"Sherlock..." He started slowly, biting down on the inside of his mouth. _Just say it._ He took a deep breath. "The day I asked you to be my best man, I told you that I wanted the two people I loved most with me on my wedding day. It's still true, I do want both of you, but not in the way I originally thought I did. If I could fix this and make it better on everyone, I would, but, it's hard to marry someone that you aren't in love with." John glanced over at Sherlock, who was staring at him with wide eyes, but there was a glint of something John never expected to see. He almost seemed hopeful. "It's even harder to marry someone when you're in love with your best friend."

He heard Sherlock catch his breath. "John?" He gasped.

The army doctor held up a hand. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, I understand. I just wanted to to know. Delete it if you don't-"

"I didn't want you to get married." Sherlock cut him off, his voice slightly hoarse. John's heart jumped to his throat as he met his friend's eyes. The detective hesitated, and looked down at the floor to hide the rosy pink that rose to his cheeks. "When I saw you and Mary, I knew I had come too late... But I wasn't going to stop you from getting married because I wanted you to be happy. I thought that this was what you wanted, and I would have done anything to make up for what I did to you, but I never wanted this. I thought I was doing the right thing, because I loved you too much to stop you from being happy. I never dreamt that you..." His voice trailed off, and he hung his head. "I'm so sorry, John."

John shook his head. "I have no idea what you think you have to apologize for, but I'm certain it's ludicrous." He noted, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a smirk.

Sherlock laughed, and the sound was almost magical in John's ears. "I'm sorry this all came out today of all days." He corrected himself.

"I'm not." John answered honestly. "If it hadn't, I would have ended up miserable without you. Mary said the same thing."

Suddenly, the detective's expression end darkened, and he glanced nervously toward the door. "How did she take it?"

John sighed, his heart falling a bit. "She's... Taking it better than I thought she would. She knows it wasn't about her, it was the fact that I loved you in the first place that coursed the problems. She was the one who convinced me to talk to you. I was ready to run."

The detective chuckled. "I would have followed you."

"I bet you would have."

The two men laughed, and strangely enough, it felt comfortable, even though it had been awkward in the beginning on this conversation. John was beginning to realize that they had been in a relationship for the last few years, and neither of them knew it. There was a bit of guilt behind it, especially knowing that Mary was there, but he never actually felt that it was right. But this, this felt right. Being with Sherlock, being able to say this outright and not hold back, it felt sublime. John realized that The Woman-and everyone else to be honest-had been right; They _were_ a couple, but they didn't know it. The doctor felt silly now, as the realization came out, he felt he should have seen it, but the feeling of this was better than anything he had ever felt in his entire life.

At some point during their laughter, their fingers became laced between them, resting on John's thigh, and even the smallest connection sent sparks through the army doctor's arm. He loved this. The two men faced each other, and for no reason at all, John made a vow to never look away from Sherlock Holmes again. He wasn't sure if it was the way he was staring at him, eyes wide and loving and glistening from the confession that had been made, or the way the light had hit his face, but in that moment, John Watson had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

He closed the distance between them and captured the detective's lips, and the sensation alone sent a chill down his spine. He was glad he was sitting down, or he would have fallen. Sherlock had gone almost completely rigid, but when John reached up to twist his fingers in the detective's dark curls, he melted into the sudden kiss, and allowed John to lean into him. This was unlike kissing Mary. This was unlike kissing any woman that John had ever been with, or any man for that matter. Of course, kissing James Sholto, or even those various boys he had been with as a teenager was nothing like this. Kissing Sherlock Holmes was like nothing he had ever experienced before, but it was everything he wanted. He never wanted to kiss anyone ever again.

But the time they broke apart, they were both red faced and breathing hard, and the smiles were so bright, neither one of them could keep themselves from giggling like they often did at crime scenes. They felt like a couple of lovesick teenagers, but the feeling was wonderful. "I love you, you know?" John murmured into the darkness of the room.

Oh, he would never get tired of the look that came over Sherlock's face when he said it again. "I love you too."

The words made him giggle again, just from the way his heart fluttered. "I could definitely get used to hearing that." He said.

"I believe I could too."

The doctor grinned, then looked toward the door with a sigh. "Come on, we should probably tell everyone to call the rest of this off." He got to his feet and pulled the detective. Sherlock suddenly looked nervous again at the mention of having to talk to Mary. Job noticed right away and reached up to cradle his face and press a kiss to his lips. "Hey. Don't worry. This is between Mary and I. I'll handle it. You're mine now, if you want to be, and I'm not changing my mind about this. I love you too much. Okay?" He gave the detective his signature charming smile, and watched as Sherlock relaxed. He took his hand, and led him back out of the dark closet. _Ironically enough._

Mary was waiting for them when they stepped outside. Her eyes were slightly red, like she had been crying, but she smiled. John felt guilty, as he saw she was still in her wedding dress, but she gave him a look that read _I've already forgiven you_. Her eyes dropped to their linked hands, and she bit at her lip. "I suppose you two have worked everything out." She said.

John nodded. "I think so. Mary, thank you for-"

She held up a hand. "Don't thank me. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." She paused and looked the two of them over. "And I can tell that you two are going to be very happy." When the two men blushed, she giggled.

"So... What do we do now?" Sherlock asked quietly.

John ran his hands through his hair. "Send everyone home, I suppose. The wedding is off after all." He replied, then quickly regretted it. He looked to his former bride, and was surprised to see her smiling. "I know that look. What are you thinking?"

Mary looked between the two men with a smile that was halfway devious and halfway excited. It was a dangerous look, it meant she had a great idea that she was bursting to tell. "Well... We don't have to send everyone home." She said simply.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, but John caught on quickly. "Oh. You mean..." He half stuttered, the nervous feeling coming back, but for an entirely different reason.

Mary nodded. "The wedding doesn't have to be off."

"No, Mary, you're right." John agreed.

Sherlock looked down at him anxiously. "John, what are you talking about?" He demanded, his voice wavering.

John caught the detective's eyes and held him there. He wanted this to be perfect, no matter how unconventional. He had so much to say. Five years of friendship, five years of the strongest bond either of them had ever experienced, and all of the words he wanted to say we're now stuck on his lips, staining them like an exquisite wine. If he could say everything he wanted to with a single look, he would count all of the reasons he loved Sherlock Holmes. If he could, he could tell him how much he loved everything about the detective, and he wouldn't stop until he ran out of breaths to take, and he would still never be able to list every reason. He would tell him he loved the way he made a point to make John laugh, no matter the situation. He loved the way he'd play violin at three in the morning if John had nightmares. He loved the way he got so excited for a case, no matter how inappropriate it was. He would tell him he even loved the body parts in the fridge, or the strange experiments that he never understood, but he loved them because they were strictly Sherlock. If he could say everything he wanted with a single look, he would. But, all he managed to say was, _"Marry me."_

Sherlock's eyes went wide, and he took a hesitant step back. "John?" His voice came out like a squeak. "John, I... Now? You want to marry me today? But... We've only just... What if you regret it? What if you wake up tomorrow and realize you've made a mistake?"

John's heart sunk. Of course he still thought he was at the bottom of the list. "Oh, Sherlock..." He breathed before reaching out and taking his hands. "Sherlock, we've practically been together since we met. Everyone knew it, everyone saw it, except for us. Now do you honestly think, after everything we've been through, that I'm going to back out on you now?"

The detective hesitated. "I'm possessive. I'm possessive and clingy, and now that we're... More than friends, when we fight, I'll be worse. I panic. I'm unpleasant most of the time, and I honestly have no idea how to be in a relationship with anyone, let alone married. I'm not good with love, I've never done this before, I've never even been in love before this, and I want to do this right, but-"

John silenced him with another kiss, cradling his face in his hands and caressing the detective's cheek with his thumb. When he pulled away, he held his forehead against Sherlock's, just to keep him close. His arm was tightly bound around Sherlock's waist, and when he looked up, he smiled. "And I absolutely _love that_ about you. If I couldn't handle that, would I have stayed?"

He hesitated. "No. I suppose not."

"Exactly, so stop worrying." He chided gently, kissing the detective again. He loved doing that. "Now look, I'm not going anywhere. I would never do that to you, because I love you way too much. Besides, where would I go? There is literally _no where_ on this Earth that I would rather be than right here with you. I don't care what happens, I have been waiting for this for years, and I don't want to wait any longer. Marry me, Sherlock."

The detective said nothing at first, just kept his eyes fixed on John with such intensity, he worried what was actually going on inside his head. He looked to Mary, who gave him a tearful smile, then dropped his eyes to the floor. He was conflicted, it was easy to see, and John knew he was struggling with his own wants and insecurities. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn't sure whether to let himself have it. The army doctor wondered how many times Sherlock told himself he didn't deserve the love he was given. _I've never even been in love before this, and I want to do this right._ John knew he was looking for someone to tell him that he was doing it right. He thought he had to be perfect for him.

Sherlock lifted his gaze to lock it with John's, and he nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course I will."

John threw his arms around his new fiancé-God, how wonderful that felt to say-and held him close. He stayed there for perhaps a few seconds too long, then pulled away with tears in his eyes. "I have to go tell the pastor. Tell no one this is happening."

Mary stepped up and took Sherlock by the arm. "Come on, you, let's go get you ready, we only have two hours!" She exclaimed.

"Wait, you're staying?" Sherlock gasped in shock. "Even after..." 

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world. Besides, it would be a nice little surprise for everyone, since no one expects it." She teased before pulling him down the hall. "Not a word to anyone, John!" She shouted back. John only laughed.

** _______________ **

The next two hours were a blur for the consulting detective. Of course, they told Janine right away of the new development for the wedding, and as soon as the shock wore off, Sherlock was forced into a chair where the two women worked on him. Of course, there wasn't much for them to do, as he was already dressed and ready to go, but he had to say, he was only half prepared for this. He had gotten a text from Mycroft, saying that the marriage license had already been made, so everything was legal, as well as another congratulatory message saying he was proud, and to give his best to Dr. Watson. Sherlock was still too in shock to send back a snippy response.

_I'm marrying John Watson in less than an hour._

His heart nearly stopped at the realization.

_I'm marrying John Watson._

_In less than an hour, I'm marrying John Watson._

It had all happened so fast that the detective barely had a chance to breathe, and he was honestly more nervous than excited. He had no idea what to say. They hadn't discussed vows or anything, but John and Mary had written their own, so he just figured he was going to do the same. He was utterly terrified, but his heart was also leaping in his chest. He secretly wished that he was going to be the one to marry John one day, and in the days leading up to the wedding, he found himself dreaming that it was him saying Mary's vows instead, but always pushed the fantasy away. He was stunned that John wanted to marry him, he had never expected it. He was an absolute mess most of the time, how the hell was John supposed to handle him? He wanted this to be right, but why the hell would John want to marry him?

Of course, John wouldn't leave him now, he'd never do that, Sherlock wasn't worried about that, but Sherlock also knew he was an utter mess, and he wasn't good with people. What if everyone thought this wedding was a bad idea? What if their marriage left John at more of a risk from their enemies? _You need to calm down._ John's voice told him. _Find something to relax yourself._

He could do that.

He began running through the hallways of his mind palace, searching for something, anything that could calm him down, but his entire mind was filled to the brink with John, and he only became more and more nervous.

"Sherlock?" Mary said from above him, breaking the vicious cycle of thoughts.

The detective looked up to find the blonde woman gazing down at him with concerned eyes. He swallowed hard. "Is it wrong to be scared?" He asked her hoarsely.

She shook her head. "Of course not." She replied sympathetically. "This happened so fast, it's a wonder you can do anything. I would have whiplash by now. But, I suppose that you two are used to whiplash with your line of work."

That got a laugh out of him, not matter how breathless it sounded.

Mary smiled brightly at him before sitting in the chair across from him and taking both of his hands. "Sherlock Holmes, listen to me." The blonde said forcefully, but kindly, making the detective relax ever so slightly. "In an less than thirty minutes, you're going to be married to the man you've been pining after for the last five years. There's a man out there, all dressed up, standing at the end of the alter, just waiting to be able to call you his husband. He's just waiting for you to walk down that isle with me and join him there. This is your night, sweetheart. This is your night. As your maid of honor, I swear to you that you will not regret this, and neither will John. You can do this, Sherlock. Remember why you love him." Mary pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Now, I have to go slip my shoes on. I'll see you before we go out."

Sherlock watched her walk away, and took a deep breath. He could do this. He was going to be fine. _Remember why you love him._

As if he could forget.

"Sherlock?" Came Mary's voice from the doorway. "It's time, sweetheart." The detective locked eyes with her and got to his feet. He didn't even feel like he was walking, he felt like he was floating across the floor to meet her in the doorway. They linked arms, just like they had planned before, although now it was Sherlock who was going to join John Watson at the alter. He heard Mary whisper something to him that sounded a lot like 'I won't let you fall', but the blood was pumping too loudly in his ears for him to hear. When the doors opened, he felt his knees nearly give out.

But, Mary kept his grip on him.

Mary held his arm as they walked through the lavish chapel, listening to the guests on each side gushing about Mary and the dress and he began to worry even more because he couldn't see John yet, and everyone was looking at him, and he still couldn't feel his legs...

Then he saw John.

Standing at the head of the alter with his hands crossed behind his back in his usual military fashion and his eyes locked on the detective like he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, was John Hamish Watson, as misty eyed as the rest of the people around them, but for the moment, Sherlock could not see any of them. It was like everyone else had disappeared, and it was only he and John in the entire world. His heart leapt to his throat.

Just as they made it to the front, he and Mary shared a look, then, the woman removed her arm from his, and slowly backed away to join Janine a few feet away. The hushed whispering began to rumble up from the crowd over the music, and Sherlock stood frozen by the alter, staring up at John. From behind him, he heard Molly asked what was going on, and in an almost disbelieving tone, he heard Lestrade's voice over everything else.

"He's not marrying Mary. He's marrying _Sherlock."_

John must have heard it too, because he smirked, reached down and slid his hand into Sherlock's, pulling him up on the alter, holding his hands between his own. They could heard Mrs. Hudson losing her mind a few feet away, which made both men laugh quietly to themselves. Their eyes met, and they smiled at each other at the world around them went quiet. Three hours ago, John was marrying someone else, and now, there they were, standing at the alter together.

Everyone cried. Mrs. Hudson was weeping openly in the front row with Molly (who very discretely had her fingers intertwined with Greg Lestrade's), and she too was crying pretty heavily. Lestrade appeared to be attempting not to, but the occasional brush at his cheeks said otherwise. In the back, The Woman, who was hiding out in the top balcony, was becoming tearful as well at the sight of the two men. And from the CCTV circuit in his office that set to the church security camera, even Mycroft Holmes could help the smile that came when he watched his baby brother walk down the aisle.

When the vows came, both men hesitated, but spoke from their hearts. There was so much to say, but the best things had already been spoken for. The rest they kept to themselves.


End file.
